December 9th, 2012

Georgia as Little Fan in A Christmas Carol.

When they induced labor that morning of the emergency, nothing happened. I would not dilate. My baby wouldn’t come. The doctor said we’d try again tomorrow. Sitting up in the bed that evening poking at my hospital dinner, I suddenly knew why. The man on TV said there had been a total eclipse of the sun that day, the last of the 20th century.

The moon had passed between the earth and the sun, turning day to night. I was certain that when the sun rose unobstructed the next day, it would happen. It did happen, faster than anyone predicted, and Georgia was born by 10 a.m.

She is pure light, and although what passes between us has always been so radiant, I have not always been able to look straight into it. I have not been able to understand.

And now she is a young woman loving womanly things, going her own way, illumining new ground. This transit, lately, has been difficult. There is tension in the approach; there is resistance and confusion. She does not rely on me but for the slightest reminders: a gentle glow of approval, trust, encouragement. Transport here or there. Showing up on schedule. Saying nothing.

Isn’t there more to a mother? Am I not the earth?

I once held her light inside me, then let it grow. Released, it filled the universe. She covers her own ground now, where I can see her always. Mine is a distant face made beautiful by her reflection.

I am the mother moon, and I have been eclipsed. It is not the end. It is joyous. I will never leave her sky. I love her sky. Here I am complete.

For my mother and my mother’s mother and all mothers in the sky.

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  1. Yes! Beautiful.

    Comment by Kim Piper Hiatt — December 9, 2012 @ 10:37 am

  2. It’s hard to verbalize the love and connection we feel for our children. You’ve done it so beautifully and poetically here.


    Comment by Amy I. Bloom — December 9, 2012 @ 12:35 pm

  3. Hope you see your book of poems soon

    Comment by Bill — December 9, 2012 @ 2:26 pm

  4. This is so, so beautiful, and deeply touching, Maezen.

    Comment by Fanny Priest — December 9, 2012 @ 8:12 pm

  5. Speechless.

    Comment by Roos — December 10, 2012 @ 1:31 am

  6. You speak for us mothers, for me, words that I didn’t know were in my heart until you wrote them. Love this, Maezen.

    Comment by Katrina Kenison — December 10, 2012 @ 2:17 am

  7. Oh, yes, yes, yes. I’m so grateful for your wisdom and guidance as I follow closely behind you on this particularly winding road. xox

    Comment by Lindsey — December 10, 2012 @ 3:35 am

  8. You put my exact feelings into words. I am sad but filled with joy at the same time watching my daughter’s beauty and independence unfold.

    Comment by Trish — December 10, 2012 @ 6:32 am

  9. Your words are poetry — so perfectly capturing the power of truth without a wasted syllable. We bathe in your light, too. Happy holidays to you, Maezen, and your beautiful family. Jean & Sean

    Comment by Jean Breheney — December 10, 2012 @ 8:12 am

  10. So beautiful. Brings tears of joy to this Mama’s eyes. 🙂

    Comment by Nichole Been — December 10, 2012 @ 8:17 am

  11. This is beautiful, Karen. I love it so.

    Comment by Flo — December 10, 2012 @ 8:21 am

  12. You will always be her gravity, she would be lost without you. Even when you are no longer part of this world, your gravitational energy will remain for her.

    Comment by MJ — December 10, 2012 @ 8:35 am

  13. <3

    Comment by Theresa — December 10, 2012 @ 8:43 am

  14. Lately Claire has wrested away from me. Her first words in the morning are usually grumpy: “I hate school!” and not “Good morning.” I offer or request hugs and am denied. She wants not to hold my hand as we walk to and from school. She has railed against me with huge storms, including fists and mean names. I understand what is happening in my head but my heart has felt hurt; I miss my little 5-year-old lovebug. And last night I had another vivid dream, this time of my mother dying suddenly. It felt so real that I woke up panicked. So this moment is a teary one, and this post comforts me.

    Comment by Kathryn — December 10, 2012 @ 9:16 am

  15. This is so beautiful. Thank you. It is sometimes so difficult for me to explain this love I have for my children. It is so big and bossy. You are so gifted at putting a voice to my emotions. Thank you again and a hundred more times.

    Comment by Shelby — December 10, 2012 @ 9:17 am

  16. Lovely as always. Kudos to Georgia (who looks gorgeous!). May her light continue to shine brightly under the big stage lights as she makes her way into that brave, new world. And may you (and all us mothers) find a way to step back and just applaud.

    Comment by Michelle — December 10, 2012 @ 9:40 am

  17. Beautiful. My heart aches for this moment for you — and for what will be my own eclipse some day. xoxo

    Comment by Shawn — December 11, 2012 @ 6:14 am

  18. I love this Karen. The beauty of her glow, and yours. Thank you.

    Comment by Katie — December 11, 2012 @ 8:34 am

  19. The imagery in this writing is beautiful and deeply meaningful to me. Thank you for gifting me that, images and practises to hold on to as my own son grows up and away each day.

    Comment by Kim — December 12, 2012 @ 4:23 am

  20. This is so calming and just beautiful!! I really enjoyed it

    Comment by denise — January 5, 2013 @ 4:16 pm

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